


The Price of Running

by impalafortrenchcoats



Series: Prompt Fills [2]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Exhaustion, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fill, Sleepy Cuddles, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalafortrenchcoats/pseuds/impalafortrenchcoats
Summary: Prompt: Namjin + Sweat





	The Price of Running

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allourheroes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/gifts).



According to Lucian, after running to Athens with the news of Greek’s victory against the Persians in the Battle of Marathon, Pheidippides uttered his last words, “Greetings, we win.”

And proceeded to drop dead.

It’s an old story in the West, supposedly the origin of the marathon races as a sporting event, or something like that. Seokjin wasn’t sure. He didn’t particularly care one way or another, but the story always stuck with him.

People always seemed to view the story as a heroic tale of self-sacrifice. It was well romanticized, after all. Giving up oneself in the line of duty was what people aspired to do; to be the hero is every boy’s dream, wasn’t it?

Maybe Seokjin was just being the odd one out, but he remembered hating the story. Pheidippides was the victim, as far as Seokjin was concerned. The boy clearly had promise, he clearly was dedicated, talented, strong… it was such a waste.

Was it worth it?

The boy was forever remembered for dying.

Seokjin thought this was actually very sad.

But what did he know?

The dance studio was dark, only faintly lit by one set of lights. They tried not to use more lights than necessary when not recording.

Music was blasting from the stereo speakers.

There was no dancing happening, though. In the corner, Namjoon was collapsed against the wall.

It was easy to see the heavy rise and fall of his chest. Namjoon’s shirt was dark with sweat and plastered against his body. His eyes were closed.

Seokjin wondered if he had fallen asleep. It wouldn’t be the first time.

It wasn’t like Seokjin was much better off. He had given up and was lying on the floor. It had been great initially, but now the cold vinyl against his own sweaty clothes was borderline freezing.

He wished he had enough energy left to get up.

Sometimes, it just really sucked to suck at dancing. Sometimes, it just seemed like no matter how much they practiced, they were still too messy, too stiff.

Or, at least, Seokjin was.

But he couldn’t complain. Namjoon had so much more to deal with on his plate. Seokjin didn’t envy him. In fact, he spent more time worrying about what really goes on in their leader’s head.

He must be tired.

Seokjin sure was.

He felt sorry for Pheidippides.

They weren’t getting anything else done tonight… or this morning, if the blinking light of the digital clock was to be believed.

3:38 AM.

He watched Namjoon breathe for a bit, then mustered up the strength to stumble over, only to collapsed beside the slumped figure. Their shoulder rubbed damply against each other as Seokjin let himself lean against Namjoon.

God, they were fucking gross.

Namjoon didn’t open his eyes, but Seokjin heard him mumble a soft, “Hey, hyung.”

“Hm. Think it’s time to call it quits, today?”

“Would love to, but I don’t think I’m getting up anytime soon.”

“Hey, I managed to walk across the room.”

“That’s very impressive.”

“Isn’t it?”

Instead of answering, Namjoon just slumped further down, letting his head fall onto Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Five minutes. Give me five, and then we can go.” Namjoon’s breath brushed against Seokjin’s neck, shockingly warm in comparison with the chill of his sweaty clothes.

It wasn’t comfortable, but Seokjin was content.

He leaned his head against Namjoon’s, his cheek on top of the younger man’s sweaty hair. It was disgusting.

Seokjin still rubbed his cheek against the damp mop.

He wondered if there was someone Pheidippides ran for? Was there anyone waiting for the boy’s return?

Was it worth it?

In the dim studio, for Seokjin, it was worth it.


End file.
